Aniron
by Evaden
Summary: It was a love that would threaten the peace between Mirkwood and Rivendell :: Fic set during the time of the finding of the Ring and Sauron's attack on Mirkwood - an A-L fic - Rating may change - R & R
1. Default Chapter

The festivities held in honor of Marquelie - October - were always a grand and marvelous show of lights, music and wine. It was held in the highest praise by all of the elven race who, despite being the wisest of all creatures, loved to celebrate.  
  
Rivendell hosted the merende (festival) en'Marquelie as they always had, and would continue to do so, much to everyone's pleasure. The fires were roaring, the wine poured, the candles lit, and elves from every surrounding haven had come to join in the frolic. The merriest of the elves were dancing gaily to the music of the harps and flutes, while the older and more sedate members were engaged in quiet conversations as they sat over goblets kept continually brimful of the rich wine from Rivendell's special stores.  
  
The elves from the forest realm of Mirkwood in particular were enjoying themselves as thoroughly as they could. It was natural for them, for they loved festivals, and festivities of all sorts. While Rivendell was certainly not Mirkwood, and the elves therein were certainly more restrained in nature, there was still great entertainment to be had for it was, after all, the merende.  
  
From his place by the fire, the Prince Legolas watched everything. His blue eyes flitted around as he took silent note of all that surrounded him - something he was wont to do - as he sat quietly sipping a glass of mead. A small band of female elves were dancing with wreaths of flowers in their hair while their male counterparts stood wistfully by. Sometimes one of the girls would choose a partner from this group and drag him into the crowd of dancers: more often than not was the chosen one quite willing to come. These were the handsomest of the elves, mostly. Legolas watched them for lack of better entertainment until he spotted a few of the girl looking coyly in his direction and hastily averted his eyes.  
  
The lord Elrond had not yet made his appearance at the reveller's scene, but his daughter - the beautiful, raven-haired lady Arwen - was standing near a trellis of flowers with her arms looped about those of Arillen, daughter of the noble elven lord Elirrisend of Rivendell, and the two were deeply engaged in conversation.  
  
It had been many many years since Legolas had seen Arwen, for he only ever made his appearance in Rivendell on diplomatic missions and such. But each time he had seen her she had grown more beautiful. Though he had never dared to say it aloud, he had always felt a sort of affection for his lovely, angelic cousin. This secret he kept locked in his heart where he knew it must stay for Arwen was a lady and anything beyond cordiality between them would have been impossible. Lord Elrond would never allow it.  
  
Just for a moment Legolas' mind wandered and his eyes began to play over the delicate figure of his cousin, with her fair white skin and delicate hands which he knew many elves would have battled over in order to hold. As yet, Arwen had not taken a husband, and Elrond had let it be known that when she married it would not be to any undeserving commoner. Still there were scores of heroes vying for the preference of the Evenstar who's beauty was renowned throughout Middle Earth.  
  
Legolas wrenched his mind out of the gutter with a start and realized that Arillen had left in search of a goblet of wine, leaving Arwen by herself. For a moment Legolas wondered if he should speak to her. He had never spoken to her in so informal a situation before, but at the moment he felt like broadening his horizons. Legolas did not avert his eyes this time as they connected with Arwen's deep brown ones and she realized that he had been watching her. She graced him with a smile.  
  
Legolas asked by means of eye signals whether of not he could approach her (for it would not do to confront a lady without her permission) and to his surprise she told him that he could. Her gaze stayed steadily and unwaveringly on him as he got to his feet in one fluid motion and made his way around the crowd of dancing elves to her side.  
  
"Aaye a' lle, Arwen," he said as he took the hand she offered him and laid it to his lips. Arwen smiled again and returned the salutation.  
  
"How goes it with you this evening, cousin?" she asked him as she looked up into the blue eyes that should have been so familiar.  
  
Legolas released her hand slowly as if he regretted doing it.  
  
"Very badly," he smiled. "There are so many of us here today, and absolutely no one worthy of conversation, with one exception my lady." He watched her expectantly, and she blushed.  
  
"You are very kind. However, I do not believe I know quite as well as I would have liked to," Arwen said in thought. "How strange it is to have known of you for so many centuries, and yet never have known you as a friend ought to have known you."  
  
"Circumstance has a very off way about her," was Legolas' comment. "But I see no reason why there can be no friendship now."  
  
Arwen laughed delightedly. "I do agree!" she said. "And it makes me glad."  
  
"Tell me then, my friend," said Legolas, "how are you liking todays' festivities?"  
  
"I could not say. Sometimes I think I like it, and then I think I don't. it is all very well for I have no one to dance with."  
  
This was a fact that Legolas would have clearly recognized if he had not already known it. As the daughter of an elvish lord, Arwen stood out of reach of everyone but the select few who had the rank and status worthy of her grace, and there were even fewer who had had the permission from Elrond to associate with his precious child. As far as rank was concerned, Legolas had that, and even more due to his continual feats of bravery, as well as battle expertise. Now, watching Arwen in the soft glow of the candles and fireflies looking more beautiful than ever before (if such was possible), Legolas felt that if ever he took the chance of asking her to dance with him it should be now. So he proceeded to try his luck.  
  
Arwen's eyes lit up.  
  
"Of course, Legolas; I will dance with you." Somehow the answer was not so unexpected. It was something in the air that turned hearts and spirits lighter, and drew people closer, and if it was magic then elves were certainly not exempt from it's power.  
  
They sailed out among the other dancers - the center of many jealous looks from both the male and females in the party - and commenced to dance with eyes only for each other. Arwen, already captivated by her partner's immutable charm and abundant good looks, thrilled at the touch of his hand on her back and the way he looked into her eyes as they danced. He had an unmistakable air of royalty about him, and a commanding presence that she had seen people and elves fall in obeisance under. Now she felt herself falling under the spell that was the Mirkwood prince, and the feeling was altogether unreal.  
  
Legolas himself was overwhelmed by the sight of the Elven lady, the way she fit so gracefully into his arms, and the way her lips trembled slightly with her steady, even breathing. He was captured by her just as she was drawn to him.  
  
And yet, these things stayed only in their minds, communicated to the outside only through little tell-tale actions that even their sedated propriety failed to hide. There could never be more than the hope of friendship between the two.  
Together they made a stunningly beautiful picture. The fair, blonde elf prince and the ethereal lady of Rivendell captured such attention that those around them stopped to watch. Nearby the lady Arillen, who had just returned with her wine, also gazed on them with a hint of a smile.  
  
"You are a good dancer, my lord," smiled Arwen, winding her arms around Legolas' muscular shoulders, thrilling again as his hands shifted on her waist.  
  
Legolas inclined his head forward in a nod of obeisance.  
  
"It is a fair complement indeed, and truly one that I must return," he replied.  
  
Arwen spotted Arillen and with a sinking heart knew that she must go to her. She made her request apologetically to Legolas, who assented and led her off into the sidelines to the trellis where the other elf maiden waited.  
  
"Thank you," Arwen said, staring up at Legolas with bright eyes. He bowed again, and then to Arillen, respectfully, and disappeared into the crowd. Arillen took Arwen's arm again.  
  
"Do mine eyes betray me," she whispered mischievously, "of did I detect an uncommon sparkle in your eyes as you danced with the fair prince?" Arwen glanced at her friend with a curious expression, but shook her head.  
  
"I fear the former, lady," she said regretfully, but Arillen was not deceived. "You are captivated, Arwen," she persisted. "If you are not then I know not who I am."  
  
"And that is arguable," Arwen teased lightly, but looked back into the crowd whence Legolas had gone. "He is my cousin, Arillen," she said, without conviction.  
  
"In name only," Arillen reminded her. Arwen sighed.  
  
"Alright, Arillen, keep your foolish fantasies, but I assure you that the prince had nothing more on his mind that to enjoy the party."  
  
"Rubbish," Arillen scoffed, "and they're not my foolish fantasies, Arwen. I'm not blind."  
  
Arwen was silent, and for the moment, nothing more was said about it. 


	2. The Great Hall

Author's Notes:  
  
If the story seems a little long, please stay with me: the plot will take a while to develop. This is going to be a novel of sorts.  
  
To Gionareth – thanks for reviewing! I'll try to update as often as I can  
  
To Anonymous Reviewer #1 – Thanks so much for letting me know. I've made the necessary corrections.  
  
====================================================  
  
Legolas had retreated to the Great Hall in the hopes of some peace during which he could try and recover himself. The euphoria of the dance was still high in his soul, and as it was an entirely new feeling to him, he was unsettled and unnerved by it all.  
  
Unfortunately for him, the dreams of a chance for quiet thoughtful reflection were short-lived.  
  
"Lady Ivilen." It was a transition from a blissful fantasy to a dissident nightmare. He squared his shoulders and felt ill prepared as the red-haired lady Ivilen Farrowsin accosted him with a smile on her cherry lips.  
  
"Prince," she crooned sweetly. "You were quite the last person I expected to meet in this dark little alley."  
  
"I was just on my way to the Great Hall," Legolas told her as she circled him closely.  
  
"Is it possible that his Highness could have tired already of the magnificent party?" Ivilen asked, "or was it the dancing that has done the job for you?"  
  
Legolas shot a suspicious stare at her.  
  
"I do not dance, my lady."  
  
"Oh but you do!" Ivilen said silkily. "I saw you with my own eyes; unless that was someone else who so tenderly held the lady Arwen in his arms not a moment ago."  
  
A defective, dissident nightmare. Legolas cringed a little at Ivilen's scathing tones as he endeavored to defend himself. He saw her staring, and was faintly annoyed at her behavior. No one confronted a Prince.  
  
It was all very well, for she had seen him with Arwen, and any effort to deny it would be futile at this particular junction.  
  
"I saw you," Ivilen repeated again in a teasing song, her tone grating on Legolas' indefectible nerves.  
  
"You are exceedingly lucky that lord Elrond did not catch you at it," she continued blithely. "You know of what I speak."  
  
"Forgive me, but I do not."  
  
"It would seem that any attempt made in the direction of, say - marriage...is out of question. Elrond would never permit it."  
  
"Lady," interrupted Legolas sternly, "if there is any suspicion that I have intentions other than friendship with the lady Arwen than you would do well to remove them immediately."  
  
"Tut, tut, dear Prince," Ivilen said hastily, "I meant no offense." She sidled up closer to him and shrugged one shoulder up to her cheek, blinking her long lashes.  
  
"I would never suspect that your intentions could be anything less than honorable: I was merely advising you to keep up your guard." She stared up into Legolas' eyes.  
  
Keep up his guard indeed. Legolas squared his shoulders.  
  
"I thank you for your concern," he said evenly, knowing that this was the kind of unsentimental answer that Ivilen was not searching for. "Now if you would excuse me, I must go to my father."  
  
"The King?" Ivilen asked, a little shaken. "Very well. Namaarie, my lord." She fled away in a whirl of red hair. Legolas, thankful that she was gone, continued on into the palace.  
  
The Great Hall was lined with candles and lit with a magnificent fire that burned in the gilded fireplace. It was there before the fire that the lord Elrond stood, conversing in grave tones with other elven leaders. Through his acute sense of hearing, Legolas noted that like normal they were discussing the weighty, ever-present problem of Sauron, and of Mordor. He would have liked to listen but could not for he was only the son of a king, and not the king himself, and could not participate in the business of the Council without invitation to do so.  
  
He saw his father, splendidly arrayed in velvets of a deep forest green, much like the clothes that Legolas now wore only fancier and longer. Thranduil did not see his son enter, for he was too deeply involved in conversation.  
  
Legolas saw Elrohir and Elladen engrossed in a discussion of their own, and decided to join them.  
  
"Aaye a' lle Elrohir, Elladen," he greeted them. "I see you are not outside enjoying the festivities."  
  
Elladen nodded and looked at his brother who spoke for them both.  
  
"That is a question that we have heard many times this evening, Legolas. We had been there at the beginning," he stated with an apologetic wave of his hand, "but it failed to occupy us for long. We returned here to the Hall to see what matters our honorable fathers were worrying over."  
  
"And over what do they worry?"  
  
Elrohir glanced at the group before the fire. "We could not participate in the conversation, as you know," he confided, "though doubtlessly we will soon be made aware of the things about which they speak." He lowered his voice before continuing, "This much I heard: there is a rumor that the Deceiver - you know of whom I speak - is mounting an offense against us . . ." He paused.  
  
"They say that the One Ring has been found."  
  
"Legolas!" The prince turned at the sound of his father's voice. He inhaled sharply, struggling to comprehend the tidings that Elrohir had just conferred upon him as he turned to answer Thranduil's call.  
  
"Sir?" he responded with a respectful bow. The king came sweeping forward in his long robes and beckoned for his son to step forward.  
  
"Come, greet your host." Legolas faced lord Elrond and placed his hand over his heart, inclining his head politely.  
  
"Elrond of Rivendell," he acknowledged. "I am honored." Elrond returned the nod, and Thranduil returned himself to his party with a pleased smile. Legolas turned back to Elrohir.  
  
"It has been found?" he asked in a concerned whisper. "By whom?"  
  
"We know not," said Elladen, answering for his brother. "All that we heard was the matter of the finding." Elrohir nodded silently beside him. Legolas folded his arms over his chest and became silent as he lost himself in thought.  
  
"And Sauron?" he asked finally. "What of him?"  
  
The two brothers glanced at each other.  
  
"The Council is troubled about him," Elrohir explained gravely. "They say that he will attack soon."  
  
"This is troubling news indeed," remarked Legolas. "My father had been recently concerned for the safety of our palace at Mirkwood - "  
  
" - And incidentally," Elladen said, "it is Northern Mirkwood that they fear he will attack first. They say that he wants to claim the whole of the forest before striking out at the rest of us. Our fathers do not worry about our race so much as that of men. They know that though they are strong, they are not strong enough, and also that - "  
  
" - They succumb easily to temptation," Legolas finished.  
  
"If we leave and sail to the Undying lands, who will defend Middle Earth?" Elladen asked, more rhetorically than expectant of an answer.  
  
"They have no chance," Elrohir said pessimistically, "without the protection of the elves, the men will fade. If you would remember, it was our forefathers alone who resisted the power of the Rings."  
  
Legolas remembered very well. For centuries had the elves sang of the Rings of Power and how they were given to the lords of all the races: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Every elf child knew the story, and the songs and myths were reserved for solemn occasions meant for reflection. And as Elrohir had said, the Elves were the only ones to resist the command of the Rings. The kings of men had fallen into darkness, and the dwarves had lost theirs to the dragons, and to Sauron himself.  
  
"I know not what will become of the race of men," he replied quietly. There was an interminable pause as each of the elves contemplated hard on the fate of Middle Earth and what the new discoveries concerning the One Ring might mean for it. Whatever end that was to come did not now seem so very distant.  
  
"Perhaps these matters are too weighty for such an evening," Elladen said at last. "Come; let us enjoy the party and discuss these troubling events at another date." Legolas and Elrohir solemnly agreed, and they disbanded in search of lighter diversion. 


	3. Moonlight

Author's Notes:  
  
Thanks to all of my reviewers!  
  
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The night was cool and as clear as crystal when Arwen slipped away from the party and out into the misty forest groves. The trees were silent against the dark sky, with only the merest hint of a breeze to blow them. Arwen found shelter in a delicate white gazebo that overlooked the palace, and amidst the sounds of the quietly murmuring waterfalls she sat down to dream.  
  
The party had been ruined for her, and the fault was with Legolas. As an elf, and for the span of her already long life, Arwen was no stranger to all emotions but after the dance she felt unsure if her newly awakened feelings were not already bordering on affection.  
  
Not love, surely, though all the persistent rejection in the world on her part could not disguise the fact that wherever Arwen now looked she saw Legolas' handsome face staring at her through her mind's eye.  
  
"Amin sintil mani hoonamin tyav aminkarn (I know not what my heart makes me feel)," she whispered, laying her hand on her chest.  
  
- - -  
  
Legolas, meanwhile, had returned from the Great Hall with one desire: to find Arwen. He could have excused his actions as due to a lack of better amusement, or perhaps that he wanted to be alone, but deep within he knew the real reason. He had become strangely attached to Arwen and wanted nothing better now than her gentle conversation to soothe his troubled mind.  
  
He had seen her abandon the party for the solitude of the forest, and decided to follow. She went fast, and silently, but Legolas was a hunter and Arwen carried an unmistakable aura of enchantment that seemed to draw him naturally to her side. He found her in little time; she was half reclined on a bench upholstered in indigo velvet, her face turned toward the waterfalls and the moonlight tracing her profile with an iridescent glow.  
  
She heard him approach and turned ever so slightly in his direction. For a moment she looked startled, and her dark eyes lingered questioningly on him as he came forward out of the shadow of the woods.  
  
"Am I disturbing you?" she heard him ask.  
  
"No." Arwen shrugged her shoulders up closer to her neck as he came to a stand at her left, his hands clasped behind his back. Unnervingly enough, her heart began to flutter like butterfly wings, and in a desperate effort to stop it she asked a practical and harmless question.  
  
"Did you finally tire of the party?"  
  
Legolas looked down at her and was struck by her luminescent eyes as they reflected the sky and became like two deep pools of velvet. A wuthering wind drifted seductively through the gardens and smoothed Arwen's dark curls away to expose her creamy white shoulders and the delicate curves of her neck and arms. Legolas felt his own pulse quicken to an impossible speed, and he made a conscious effort to respond to Arwen's question. Luckily it was a question that had been strangely popular that evening, and was not difficult to answer.  
  
"My lord Elrond hosts the very best festivals - tonight I merely wished to be away from the press of the crowd." Legolas kept his gaze steadily on the distant waterfalls as he shifted militaristically on his feet.  
  
Arwen smiled.  
  
"But surely you would wish to stay and dance: I refuse to believe that there was no one with whom you could partner," she said gaily. Legolas glanced at her.  
  
"There was no one with whom I wished to dance," he replied. "I found that there is more agreeable company to be found elsewhere."  
  
This revelation made for a pause of distinct length; but Legolas, who had never felt the shame of cowardice or quandary certainly felt none now and was as at ease with himself as anyone laboring under such circumstances could possibly be. Arwen merely inclined her head and continued to study him in her silent contemplative way.  
  
"I fear that I had little opportunity to inquire after your friend, the lady Arillen," said Legolas, "How is it that she fares, if I may be so bold to ask?"  
  
"Arillen is biding well," Arwen replied, pleased not only that he had asked about her friend but that the abrupt change of topic provided a safe haven from any more discomforting pauses.  
  
"I have not recently been to Lorien," Legolas continued, speaking of Arillen's homeland, "but I gather that nothing there is erring."  
  
"The Golden Wood of Lorien is as beautiful as ever it was," Arwen sighed. "It has been some time since my last visit also, but I do know that our people there are no less concerned for - Middle Earth - than we, in light of recent events. No doubt you have been told of this?"  
  
Legolas nodded, and a shadow passed over his face as he thought again of his home at Mirkwood and the dangers that they could possibly soon encounter with the enemy.  
  
"But my friend Arillen was pleased to be invited to the festival," Arwen stated, "as I was for her, and rejoiced in our reunion - it has been many years since our last meeting."  
  
With a small start Legolas realized that he was paying less attention to her words than he should have been, concentrating instead on her captivating beauty and the soothing sound of her voice. He blinked and turned away, angry that he could not stop watching her, that he could not seem to control his emotions around her suddenly. Some unnatural witchcraft was at work to turn a polite acquaintance into something deeper, Legolas felt.  
  
"What is this magic?" he said softly to himself. Arwen heard him whisper and looked up expectantly.  
  
"It was nothing," Legolas assured her, squaring his shoulders nonchalantly lest his thoughts betray him in his actions, and returned hastily to the last subject, "Surely you will be able to see the lady Arillen more often," merely to be polite.  
  
Arwen shook her head regretfully. "I fear that it cannot be for the direct pass between Rivendell and Lorien is grown unsafe, and any route beyond and around the latter would take an interminable time. No; Arillen and I must not meet, and can only bide our time until the danger around us has passed."  
  
Legolas came forward and knelt down in front of her, taking her hands.  
  
"Time is changing, my lady," he said, "but where all seems to fail, somewhere there is always hope." Gently he reached up and brushed away a tear that hung in stasis on Arwen's trembling lashes.  
  
Arwen did not know the reason for her crying and thought perhaps it was the night air that had caused her to become emotional, but as Legolas' skin touched hers she forgot everything. Suddenly she looked at her handsome cousin with new eyes.  
  
He comforted her like a friend, and like a lover. Yet she had known him for centuries and there had never been more than cordial friendship between them. And yet, Arwen realized, she had never been given the chance to talk with Legolas - Legolas the elf, not the Prince - for she had always known him in a company and never individually. This sudden insight shocked her.  
  
Arwen was too wise for hasty actions and words, and she kept silent as she looked searchingly into Legolas' blue eyes. Like she thought she had heard him say, there must have been magic in the air.  
  
"Prince Legolas!"  
  
The spell was broken abruptly as an elven messenger came running towards them through the forest. Legolas stood with a grim expression etched over his handsome features.  
  
"Who calls me?"  
  
The elf came to a halt in front of the gazebo and bowed to Arwen and then to Legolas before giving his message.  
  
"The king Thranduil requires your presence in the Great Hall immediately," he stated. Legolas narrowed his eyes at him.  
  
"Tell him that I will come," he said in a quiet and commanding tone. The messenger bowed again and left as quickly as he had come. Legolas turned back to Arwen.  
  
"Forgive me, my lady, but I must attend to my father's call," he apologized. Arwen rose and extended her hand for him to kiss, which he did promptly.  
  
"Perhaps I may see you tomorrow?" she inquired of him. Legolas nodded and replied that he hoped it would be so.  
  
"Namaarie then, mellonamin," Arwen said with a smile.  
  
"Namaarie." 


	4. The Meeting in the Hall

Legolas made his way hastily back to the Great Hall and wondered what important matter had required his father to send for him right then. Perhaps it was the matter of the Ring.  
  
In the Hall, Elrond and Thranduil still stood flanked on both sides by other elven lords. Elrohir stood also in the company, and Legolas noted the entrances of Elladan and of Glorifindel as he approached his father.  
  
The lords made room for the prince in their circle, and Thranduil acknowledged his son with a grim expression.  
  
"What is it that you have called me for, father," Legolas asked the king privately.  
  
"Lord Elrond will tell you," Thranduil hissed back.  
  
As Glorifindel and Elladan reached the group, Elrond began.  
  
"Gentlemen, it has recently come to my attention that very grave things have taken place concerning our enemies in Mordor." He paused to let everyone know the full importance of his words, and gazed around the circle with furrowed brows.  
  
"The Ring of power has been found."  
  
There was little shock, mostly since Elrond had been discussing this quelling turn of events all evening with his council, and Elrohir had already made his suspicions known within his own small group. The latter made dark eye contact with Legolas in confirmation as Elrond continued.  
  
"Our spies announced that the weapon of the enemy had actually come into the possession of a hobbit – who's identity has so far remained a mystery to us - some years ago," said the elven master sternly. "Sauron knows of the great perception of our spies and has managed to successfully screen the finding of the Ring from our view for a time. It was not only a day before this that we became aware of the actions that had taken place."  
  
"Do we know the location of the hobbit in question?" Elrohir asked.  
  
"The last we had heard of him was that he was moving across the country under cover of darkness, headed straight for the Misty Mountains." Elrond scanned the group again before adding; "I have only this night sent messengers to Lorien with the announcement of a Council that I desire to hold tomorrow. It is there that I will discuss these matter as length."  
  
"There are other events that have come to our attention besides the finding of the Ring," Thranduil reminded Elrond grimly before turning to his son.  
  
"It seems that the Deceiver has diverted our attention to the Ring to distract us from his other plans," he said. "We fear that he means to attack us in North Mirkwood."  
  
Since Legolas had also learned this from Elrohir he was not taken greatly aback at his fathers' words, but concern did not fail to riddle his tone as he asked how great the danger was.  
  
"We know not when he will attack," Thranduil told him darkly, "but there is very great danger indeed for us."  
  
"Should we return immediately?" Legolas prompted.  
  
"That will be decided at the Council, Legolas," Elrond said. "We have sent yet more spies to watch the actions of the encampment in South Mirkwood, and I will bring you further details tomorrow. Until then, let your minds rest easy, all, until our reactions should be decided."  
  
He signaled that they should be dismissed. Elrohir and Elladan crossed over to discuss the meeting with Legolas.  
  
"The trouble is greater than I thought," Elrohir said gravely. "There must be some great evil at work that enables a hobbit to escape the watch of our spies."  
  
"Verily," Legolas agreed, though his mind was too troubled to say much.  
  
"And yet, what should be done?" Elladan wondered. "If we slay the creature that carries the Ring, we shall then be pressed to destroy that weapon ourselves. This we cannot do. We cannot suffer the weapon of the enemy to befoul the hands of ourselves or our brethren..."  
  
"Not suffer them that evil temptation," Legolas finished. "I agree."  
  
"Shall we just sit by here until the time for the Council has arrived?" Elrohir interposed grimly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I find it difficult to be idle when the press of duty calls."  
  
"As I do," said Legolas.  
  
"Unfortunately," Elladan said suddenly, "and regardless of the way we feel, there is naught we can do but wait until a course of action has been taken up, and then follow it to the best of our ability."  
  
The truth of his words was too great to overlook, and neither Legolas of Elrohir could think of anything else to add to it. After the exchange of the necessary polite farewells, the elves parted company with the expectation of the Council weighing heavily on their minds. 


	5. This Magic:

To all of you who reviewed, thank you SO much! Also, here's the fluff you requested...  
  
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As morning broke over Rivendell it found Legolas standing broodingly on a balcony outside of his sleeping quarters. In his room the bed was unused, for the prince had had too much on his mind to rest that night.  
  
Golden sunlight flooded over him as he stood there, bathing him in warmth and awakening every fiber of his being. He had closed his eyes in meditation, but every sense was attuned to the world around him, extremely aware of every sound, movement, and sentient being. Life reverberated through him, invigorating a sense of unity within.  
  
It was the least comfort he could get to soothe his troubled mind. Though it was not in his nature not worry, he was deeply concerned for his people and for every race in general. Sauron had woven a nettled plan, and Legolas knew that Middle Earth had only just seen the beginning of it. The thought rankled him.  
  
"Good morning to you, Legolas," said someone in a rich, melodic tone. Legolas opened his eyes.  
  
He knew that voice.  
  
"Lady Arwen," he acknowledged as he turned to her. She smiled, in her graceful, delicate way, and Legolas felt strangely comforted by it.  
  
"I thought I would find you here," Arwen said. "This balcony is a most appealing place to be alone with your thoughts."  
  
"Indeed it is," agreed Legolas. "I had almost forgotten how beautiful Rivendell is on mornings such as these or indeed at any time." A strange expression crossed his features as if he implied that Rivendell wasn't the only beautiful thing on his mind, and Arwen blinked her velvety eyes at him and blushed.  
  
"When the morning comes, there is no place more radiant than here," she commented softly. There was a slight pause, and Legolas turned his head for another brief sweep of the panorama beyond the marble balcony where he stood.  
  
"As beautiful as it is, I feel I'd much rather be in Mirkwood," he said, an edge rising in his voice. "I do not wish to put off my duty by wasting away here, waiting for my father's decision."  
  
Concern grew in Arwen's eyes. She came slowly toward her cousin and laid a gentle hand on his arm.  
  
"I know of your impatience," she told him seriously, "and I do not deny your urgence to return and defend your home from what evils that have spread therein; but your father and mine will be better to decide what actions there are to be taken." Legolas glanced back at her and she searched his eyes with her own.  
  
"They are wise and have seen much. Their decisions will always lie with the interests of our kind at heart," she told him.  
  
Instinctively, Legolas reached over and grasped the hand on his arm.  
  
"I know this," he said vehemently. "My haste to battle is my greater fault."  
  
Arwen looked at him seriously.  
  
"I do not think it is a fault," she replied, "but a gift. Where others delay, you do not. Many would see that as courage."  
  
They stared at each other, one endeavoring to comfort, and the other in need of it. Unexpectedly, Legolas felt a surge of emotion well up inside him and he was hard pressed not to lean forward and kiss Arwen right then.  
  
"Perhaps it were best that you should take your mind away from these weighty matters, just for a while," Arwen suggested, returning Legolas' mind to the conversation, "and come take a walk with me."  
  
Legolas pondered the invitation for a moment, but only to be respectful lest he answer to hastily and seem anxious in Arwen's mind.  
  
"I would be honored," he said. "Where shall we walk?"  
  
"Down to the stream; it is lovely there."  
  
"Like everything in Rivendell," Legolas reflected.  
  
* * *  
  
The stream ran through a small gorge between two sides of the forest. Huge trees rose up on either bank, their roots curling down to meet the water's edge. Thick patches of white and yellow flowers flanked the walls of the gorge and seemed to light the forest with their brilliance. As it flowed, the stream gurgled and bubbled, rolling over stones and tree roots in it's path.  
  
"Rivendell is much more alive – more bright – than Mirkwood," Legolas commented as he helped Arwen over a difficult pass between two rocks.  
  
"And so you must enjoy this light, Mellonamin," she laughed gaily, "It is this brilliance that makes me alive."  
  
A stone bridge made a little arch over the stream and Arwen went over to it. She walked to the middle and turned her gaze downstream where the water ebbed and turned South.  
  
Legolas watched her and his throat tightened. It seemed impossible for one person to be so lovely. Though it had only been one evening since he and Arwen had talked together as friends, he had felt his affection for her multiply by hundreds since.  
  
Arwen was still looking off into the distance with a dreamy look on her face.  
  
"When I lived in Lothlorien," she began quietly, "I saw great beauty there – it resided in everything. It is said that the magic of Lorien is unequalled, and for a time I believed it...until I returned here." She glanced at Legolas with a small smile curving her lips.  
  
"And now you think differently," he finished her thought.  
  
Arwen nodded slightly.  
  
"Yes, she replied. "Rivendell holds more happiness for me than any other place."  
  
Something seemed to catch her mid-thought so she only watched the prince with mysterious eyes as if she were measuring him up. At a similar loss for words was Legolas himself.  
  
Their gazes met.  
  
Without stopping to think, Legolas walked slowly onto the bridge. The moment was pulling him, calling to him, and he felt he had to answer that call. Carefully he reached up and touched Arwen's cheek even more gently than he had the night before, and to his delight she did not draw away.  
  
What is this magic, thought Legolas as he searched her face for a sign. She only stared up at him wordlessly, her heart quivering within her in nervous expectation.  
  
Slowly, as if in a dream, Legolas bent his head forward and gently touched his lips to hers. Arwen responded tentatively to the kiss that her mouth yearned for, hesitant in a bewilderment of conflicting impulses. She reached over to clasp Legolas' hand as she parted her lips a little to him.  
  
"Arwen!" The call broke through the silence and Arwen turned her head hurriedly in the direction it had come from.  
  
"It's Arillen," she breathed regretfully, looking back at Legolas with apprehension in her eyes. There was a feeling of obvious disappointment between them. The dream that had been the kiss was broken with Arillen's call. Neither one spoke as they stood together on the bridge holding each other's hands as the last tie to the moment they had shared.  
  
Arillen came through the trees over the side of the gorge.  
  
"I thought you would be here. . . oh," she stopped speaking at the sight of her friend and Legolas. Arwen dropped Legolas' hand abruptly.  
  
"Good morning Arillen," she said, as cheerfully as she dared. Legolas made a small bow in Arillen's direction  
  
"I feel that I should leave," he confided quietly, turning back to Arwen who nodded in agreement. Apologizing with his eyes, Legolas turned and left, brushing past a stunned Arillen as he went.  
  
Arillen stared inquizzitively back at Arwen.  
  
"Dare I ask?" she inquired as she approached her friend.  
  
Arwen flushed scarlet.  
  
"We talked together," she said meekly.  
  
"Of course..but – "  
  
"Do not question me, Arillen," she interrupted sharply as she laid a white hand on her forehead with a worried frown.  
  
Arillen bit her lip.  
  
"You love him."  
  
"I told you not to question me!"  
  
It was so unlike Arwen's gentle nature to be anything remotely snappish that Arillen had a strong desire to flee whence she had come. Something had clearly happened to put the exceedingly serene daughter of Elrond into such an unnaturally irritable state. A strong suspicion lurked in the back of Arillen's thoughts but she brushed it hastily aside.  
  
"I am sorry, Arwen," she said. "I did not mean to cause offense." Arwen looked up after a moment and tried to smile.  
  
"And I did not mean to be cross with you," she replied regretfully. "I too am sorry." She took Arillen's hand.  
  
"I know the sight of me with the prince might have caused a little shock," Arwen excused airily, "But to answer your question I will say only that I do not know if I love him or not. It is too strong a word, and we do not know each other well enough, perhaps."  
  
"But you like him, at least a little," Arillen said.  
  
"Please, Arillen; we are just friends."  
  
Arillen squeezed her friends' hand to show that there was no harm intended in her question, but somehow Arwen's words did not strike true to her mind. 


	6. Before the Council

Dusk fell over Rivendell in a tapestry of purples and reds, dappling the forest with color and sending beams of dying sunlight dancing over the waterfalls.  
  
Legolas descended a short flight of steps into the courtyard on the way to Rivendell's council room. Golden leaves danced to the ground in front of him, spurred by a light autumn breeze. The tall aging trees hid the courtyard from the sun's last rays. Leaving only the stately marble fountain in the center unshaded. It was there, by the fountains' edge, that Arillen sat dappling her thin white fingertips into the sun-kissed water. Flecks of amber tinted the mane of silky white blonde hair that tumbled in sheaves over her shoulders as she stared broodingly at her own reflection in the fountain pool. She did not hear Legolas approach.  
  
Almost invisible among the trees along the sidelines, he watched her. She was very beautiful, like all of the elves of Lothlorien - with her golden hair and pale skin - and she was dressed in layers of flowing, iridescent gauze of a slight blue tint. Legolas was not watching her for her beauty, but merely hesitant to approach for if she was resentful with him, due to that rather awkward scene with Arwen, she might not be friendly.  
  
Finally he began to wonder if an explanation was in order.  
  
The longer he lingered in he woods the longer Arillen continued not to notice him. With the Meeting with the Council hanging over his head and the time slipping steadily away, Legolas made his decision and struck resolutely into the courtyard.  
  
Arillen looked up at him. Legolas, fully expecting a harsh questioning, was shocked to wonderment when Arillen only smiled gracefully at him and stood to make a small bow in his direction.  
  
"Fair evening to you, my lord," she said in her quiet voice.  
  
"And to you, Lady Arillen," Legolas replied. There was a slight pause.  
  
"Go you to the Council seat?" Arillen inquired - more in politeness than curiosity.  
  
Legolas nodded. "Verily."  
  
Arillen said nothing more and seemed to end the conversation by re-seating herself at the fountain's edge. Beside her, standing in slight discomfort, Legolas was wondering if she wanted to know just what his intentions with Arwen were. He did not feel so much like disclosing to any other any of his feelings for his lady, and in order to put off the invariable questioning he diverted the conversation by asking Arillen how long she had been from her home in Lorien.  
  
Light blue eyes flickered up to meet his briefly.  
  
"A week have I been here," Arillen replied. "It is a bittersweet visit, for just as I enjoy being here in Rivendell, I do also yearn for my home and family." She shook her head at her reflection in the fountain pool, and more blonde hair came tumbling down around her face. "No doubt," she said slowly, "The festivities have been lost upon you my lord" (meaning Legolas) "For the evil news that has sprung upon us?"  
  
Legolas nodded slightly but said nothing.  
  
"Yes," Arillen murmured. "What a shadow to fall over our ceremonies. And that we should chance to be here while our homelands lie in grave danger - we are unable to help." She brushed her hand quickly through the still water and watched as the ripples bleared her reflection. "Alas," whispered Arillen, "You are hindered from any defense while I and every one of the female race are simply unable to defend."  
  
"If there were no womenfolk to defend at home," Legolas interposed, feeling that he'd heard this complaint before, "Then the men would have no reason to fight."  
  
Arillen cocked her head to the side.  
  
"You correct me," she wondered, "And you do speak wisely." Sighing, "I spoke hastily, and please do not think that I am not content with my duty as a woman, only sometimes I wish to . . ." she trailed off abruptly and bit her lower lip.  
  
"The world is built on women so brave who would give up their positions to fight at a man's side but do not for they revere the duties given by nature's way to them," Legolas said quietly. Arillen looked up at him from her mournful place and was at once awed by the noble strength borne by the prince. A sudden little shiver ran through her heart.  
  
He is so much higher than I am and yet he speaks to me as an equal, she thought, impressed.  
  
Elladan came striding into the courtyard at this time and approached the fountain where Arillen and Legolas were. He made a polite gesture in the direction of the lady, who bowed her head and blushed; then he turned to the prince.  
  
With one inquisitive lifting of his eyebrow at finding his friend with Arillen, Elladan proceeded to speak.  
  
"The ambassadors from Lothlorien," he told Legolas, "As well as those from Mirkwood."  
  
"Who is it who has come from Mirkwood?" Legolas questioned eagerly, and Arillen looked up at the name of Lorien.  
  
"Elfannen and Glordinas, the ambassadors," Elladan replied. "The latter chosen by the Steward of Mirkwood to appear on the colony's behest, and the former chosen by the Council thereof."  
  
"Allanduil is a fool and a pestilence upon us," Legolas privately, speaking rather viciously about the hapless Steward. To Elladan he said, "I shall be glad indeed to see Elfannen. His wisdom will be much needed tonight. Come." Elladan joined him in a farewell to Arillen, then followed him out to the Lesser Hall wherein was grouped the newcomers and Rivendell's own leaders. Arillen, not to be left behind, trailed the pair in hopes of being able to greet the Lothlorien ambassadors and perhaps be included in any discussions.  
  
Elfannen and Glordinas stood together, the latter tall and somewhat skeletal in appearance with high cheekbones and thin lips, and the former also tall, though not so tall nor thin as his companion, and more genuine in expression. Both elves were clad in long velvet cloaks of a dark brown color and traveling boots, with their golden hair loose and fastened only at the top by silver clasps.  
  
Legolas hailed them and hurried over.  
  
"Was it a difficult journey?" he asked as he and Elfannen clasped hands and smacked each other firmly on the right shoulder in greeting.  
  
"It was not," Elfannen replied cheerfully, and watched as Legolas repeated the same greeting less heartily with the dower Glordinas.  
  
"Good. Now tell me," said Legolas as Glordinas ambled off in search of Thranduil, "How grave does the danger seem in Mirkwood?"  
  
Elfannen's face clouded.  
  
"I could not say," he replied somberly. "It had not looked to bide ill, before. I was instructed to tell your father of a few incidents that occurred near our castle. We had not looked on them with deep suspicion until word came from Rivendell of..."  
  
"What incidents?" Legolas asked quickly. A nagging worry grew inside him as he waited for Elfannen's answer.  
  
The other elf did not respond quickly. "There were several," he said, furrowing his brow in thought.  
  
"Several?" Legolas expostulated. Elfannen endeavored to quiet him with a severe look.  
  
"Yes; several, as I can remember. There were cases of stray orcs, found wandering in our forests - always by themselves. That is, there was never more than one at a time...to be more specific," Elfannen said, noting the look of confusion on his friend's face.  
  
"I understand," said Legolas, somewhat irritated. "And it is unnatural for the soldiers of Sauron to travel alone."  
  
Elfannen nodded gravely. "It put us to shame that we had not looked deeper into these anomalies. You must understand that under normal circumstances we would have no reason to give heed to the presence of an orc in Mirkwood..."  
  
Legolas assented this.  
  
"...But what we failed to realize, or remember for that matter, was that these creatures were no longer being discovered in the outer regions of the forest," Elfannen continued gloomily. "They kept coming closer, and closer to us; much closer than any orc has done in some great while."  
  
Legolas said nothing, but the worried feeling in his soul grew more pressing as Elfannen spoke.  
  
"The most recent case was discovered wandering near the river," the other elf said, "He was not three hundred feet from our gates."  
  
"And yet you did not notice the significance of this?" Legolas rebuked him through clenched teeth. Elfannen kept his gaze steady in the face of his angered friend and said urgently, "Allanduil had kept it secret from the Council until your father sent word for us to meet here with lord Elrond."  
  
"What was his excuse?" Legolas muttered as he struggled to bite back his frustration.  
  
"He gave none," replied Elfannen coolly. "He claimed that it mattered not."  
  
"He is a fool!" Legolas said angrily. He turned away from Elfannen for a moment and stared moodily around at the other elves in the Hall. For a few minutes there was silence as Legolas thought, and finally Elfannen laid a calm hand on his friend's shoulder.  
  
"Nothing can be done to quell Allanduil's dishonesty now," he reminded him, "But if there is a threat to our homeland, then let us be made ready and aware. I will tell your father all of these suspicious happenings, and hopefully the Council of Elrond will resolve what must be done."  
  
Legolas turned to him.  
  
"Hopefully it will," he replied. "Hopefully it will."  
  
==============================================  
  
A/N: So, next would be the Council of Elrond, which I REALLY do not feel like writing. sigh Either I write it (but not for a while because it'll probably be quite boring to type out...all those elves saying grave and thoughtful things) or I'll just skip it entirely and throw the decisions made in it into the next chapter through some odd dialogue. I just can't decide... 


	7. Chapter Seven

A/N: Okay...I've decided not to put in the Council chapter. It would probably have been boring anyway. Maybe I'll write it up later.  
  
To all of you who reviewed: Thank you! As always, your input is ALWAYS appreciated. I love you guys!

And yes...I'm starting this chapter with another description of the sky. I know its repetitive.  
  
===============================================================  
  
Night fell over the home of the elves like a velvet curtain riddled with diamonds. Lights began to dot the city with their gold, scattered in clusters over the hillsides of Rivendell and through the silent darkness the distant strains of music could be heard.  
  
In the spacious grass-covered courtyard, the evenings' festivities had already begun.  
  
---  
  
Legolas stormed, fuming, out of the Council Hall with Elfannen at his heels.  
  
"Stay here until the festival has ended?" he said in scorn. "Fah! Where is my father's wisdom that is so renown?!" The prince scowled as he stalked down a rose-hung archway, his long yellow hair tossing behind with each step. Elfannen quickened his own pace in an effort to keep up.  
  
"Mirkwood's borders will be secured," he reminded his friend. Legolas waved this false comfort away hastily. "What is a city without its ruler? No; my father fails to recognize the danger. He has given to great of heed to that fool Glordinas - did you not hear the traitor in the Council?"  
  
Elfannen nodded. "I did."  
  
"Whispering in my fathers' ear like a deceiving serpent! Curse the day that he came into our company!" Legolas marched out into the middle of the same circular courtyard where he had met Arillen only a few hours previous. It was empty now with the exception of the prince and Elfannen, and was quite beautiful under the soft glow of the moonlight.  
  
Legolas drew a deep, worried breath and exhaled into the silence.  
  
"Mirkwood failed to be great the day that Allanduil became Steward and Glordinas Advisor," he mourned.  
  
Elfannen nodded in mutual understanding.  
  
"What words angered me most were those of your father when, after you had asked why we must stay in Rivendell, he replied that we are safer here," the elf commented bitterly. "If we are safer here than in our own home, what is to be concluded but that we should return there to protect it?"  
  
"He spoke words that were not his," Legolas said after a moment. "The wisdom of his Advisor fits him ill." He spat the words out as if they were like poison to his taste, and both elves became silent in the galling truth.  
  
A slight fog was creeping in from the waterfalls and spreading silently over Rivendell. In the distance beyond the courtyard where Legolas and Elfannen stood, the bright lights of the festival hovered gaily, and the sounds of music and laughter reached out to the attentions of the two elves.  
  
"The festival has begun," Elfannen pointed purposely, knowing that his keen- eyed friend had noticed it long ago. Legolas glanced up at him with one raised eyebrow.  
  
"I feel slightly in need of a drink," Elfannen continued. He peered through the darkness at the lights on the horizon. "I believe that the dancing has just begun as well."  
  
"Dancing?" Legolas laughed. "Elfannen, you never told me that you had a fondness for that sport!"  
  
Elfannen shook his head sagely.  
  
"I don't...much...but we are so gloomy that perhaps a bit of folly traipsing will do us good."  
  
Legolas laid a hand on his shoulder with a knowing look and said, "You are right; let us be off." Elfannen grinned back at him.  
  
They raced down the hill like two wild deer, flying swiftly over the ground at speeds that would have bewildered any mortal man. Long golden hair whipped behind them and shone in the moonlight as they fled down the side of one hill. Legolas reached the bridge that spanned the cliffs between him and his destination, and crossed it before Elfannen had even neared it. The latter scowled and came tearing after him.  
  
The festival seat hove into sight as the two elves raced each other up the side of the hill. Legolas came to a halt just outside of the Hall and surveyed the scenery carefully. In the open courtyard many of his elven kin danced in groups, laughing and reveling in their activity while others stood on the outskirts, either drinking wine, engaged in conversation, or cheering the dancers on.  
  
Legolas turned to Elfannen as his friend came to a stop beside him.  
  
"It seems as though the dancing has begun," he teased. Elfannen's eyes flashed.  
  
"You go on," Legolas told his friend. "I'll linger here for a while." Elfannen threw him a searching look but the prince's face showed no unusual emotion.  
  
"Namaarie," he said, and went confidentially in the direction of the dancing troupe leaving Legolas alone.  
  
The latter approached the party slowly, not feeling inclined to join the fray just then. He stood in the shadows, scanning the crowds with mild interest. Elfannen, he noticed, had had little trouble in securing a partner; Legolas watched him sail gallantly out among the dancers with a dark-haired elven maiden on his arm and grinned at his antics. The elf had always enjoyed female company. Legolas himself had never disliked dancing, but now, as he lingered outside the party, he only wished to dance with a particular someone - someone who had commanded a large party of his thoughts for many days.  
  
Arwen Undomiel.  
  
Suddenly he saw her. She was standing among a cluster of her friends, discoursing with them in obvious gaiety. Legolas watched her dark eyes blink slowly, her mahogany colored hair curling about her face and flowing in sheaves down to her waist, her white hands clasped lightly in front of her.  
  
Legolas's breath caught in his throat as Arwen's gaze fund him through the crowd. The world turned silent all around them it seemed, in that moment.  
  
Then, just as suddenly as he had noticed her, she was gone. She slipped silently away from her companions, disappearing among the press. In mingled surprise, Legolas barely saw her go... but he wasn't about to be put by so easily. With one last scan of the crowd he turned and made his way around the courtyard in the direction that Arwen had taken. No one saw him as he slunk among the trees, taking cover in their leafy shade as he searched intently for the object of his desires.  
  
Finally, away from the party in a mossy clearing, he found her. She was standing at the edge of the clearing that was furthest from him, one hand resting gently against the roughened bark of a nearby oak. Wisps of fog drifted low against the ground, beaming white and ghostlike as the moonlight reflected off of it. Arwen glowed with it, appearing in Legolas' mind as a sort of ethereal angel. He could not remember having desired anyone before like he craved her now.  
  
"Arwen," he said, taking a step forward."  
  
Arwen's lips trembled as she breathed out.  
  
"Why did you come here?" she asked softly.  
  
"I wanted to see you."  
  
Arwen approached him slowly, and he followed suit by coming to face her at the center of the clearing. They stood there for a moment in silence, so close that their bodies nearly touched, and watched each other.  
  
"Why did you want to see me?" the elf lady questioned softly. Legolas searched her face. "You have been haunting my dreams since the day I first spoke to you," he said. Arwen cocked her head a little to the side.  
  
"You may think me too bold," Legolas murmured, "To speak thus." Arwen smiled and glanced modestly down at the ground. Their hands brushed gently together and with a tender movement Legolas carefully wrapped his fingers around Arwen's own. He could hear her breathing in a steady, rhythmic pattern and almost fancied that he could hear her heart beating as well. Their faces were so near that Legolas could have kissed her hair without putting much effort into it.  
  
He leaned forward instead and nuzzled her ear a little, almost as if he were testing her reaction. Arwen lifted her face slightly, keeping it just out of contact and lingering there, determinedly refusing to give Legolas what he so desired.  
  
"We have known each other for so little time," she whispered.  
  
Legolas caressed her hands.  
  
"So it does seem," he replied softly, looking into Arwen's great dark eyes. "But we've known about each other for ages."  
  
"Then how is it that we should fall in love," Arwen gasped, "...now?"  
  
Neither of them required an answer as their lips met in a passionate kiss. Arwen pressed her body anxiously against Legolas's muscular chest, her hands leaving his and traveling up to his neck and shoulders. In turn, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him as they embraced.  
  
Suddenly, Arwen pulled away.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" she asked, her low musical tone turned almost to desperation. "Soon you will be leaving for Mirkwood...and then it will end."  
  
"My father has decided to remain in Rivendell until the close of the festival," Legolas assured her, glad for the first time since the convening of the Council that his father had made such a decision. "I will remain with him for as long as he lingers here."  
  
But Arwen shook her head.  
  
"After the festival, you will leave," she explained sadly. "It is an inevitable fate." Arwen turned away, her features drawn with concern. Legolas pulled her against his chest, running his hands over her shoulders and pressing soft, impulsive kisses against the nape of her neck.  
  
"We will live forever," he reminded her. "I'm certain that somehow or another we will find time to be together." Arwen was silent. She closed her eyes and melted in his arms as he held her.  
  
Finally a smile graced her matchless features.  
  
"I will conquer my troubles when I encounter them," she decided, turning to face Legolas once more. "Until then, let us be happy in what we have." Legolas leaned in to kiss her and she obliged him eagerly.  
  
The prince could not help but think that it was all a dream. It did not seem so possible to him that within days of meeting the beautiful Evenstar he now stood promising her that he would always be there for her...  
  
He kissed her fervently, again and again, thrilled with the little shivers that he felt running down her back when he touched her. She had been right to be hesitant concerning their relationship seeing as they hadn't really known each other well, but Legolas was intent on rectifying such inequities. As long as he was in Rivendell he would do all in his power to be with her.  
  
Suddenly, an eternity of days did not seem enough to spend with Arwen. As the two elves embraced, both felt that they could stay like that forever.  
  
"We should return to the party," Arwen moaned between breaths and Legolas's kisses.  
  
He touched her face gently.  
  
"Just a few more moments."  
  
Arwen smiled mischievously at him.

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So that was that. good or...? R & R!


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